


A Lord to a Lady

by EmmaWasRight



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3516515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaWasRight/pseuds/EmmaWasRight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marvel Regency AU. The Duke of Foardingham has 3 daughters and no male heir. Luckily the King has granted a dispensation allowing for his first grandson to become his heir. Now the Duke needs only to marry off Jemma, Skye and Darcy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Almack's

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone,
> 
> This is my first ever fic. Please let me know what you think. I'm going to try and post a new chapter every week. Also I don't own any of the characters except those of my own creation. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 1**

“Naturally once you are safely ensconced and breeding in Aylwick Abbey you will have no desire to return south for the Season. I will come alone to tend to my affairs and be sure to send your regards to everyone. You will be far too busy with the children and making changes and repairs to the Abbey you like, I will give you free reign.”

Lady Jemma Coulborne, eldest daughter of the Duke of Foardingham, could scarcely believe her ears. Lord Werlinshire, a balding young man whose chin had the unfortunate habit of disappearing whenever he spoke, was proposing marriage to her. At least she thought he was proposing, he had yet to ask her anything and had been prattling on for the last ten minutes about his moldy Abbey in the North and how she would enjoy being used as a broodmare and seeing her dowry used to fix the dilapidated home. Of course he hadn’t used those exact words, but Jemma knew exactly what he meant.

“The moss on the wall is particularly lovely, you’ll hardly care that it is growing indoors” Werlinshire continued.

That caught Jemma’s attention. He truly believed that that was appealing, didn’t he? It was a well-known fact that she enjoyed botany; however she preferred it when the plants grew where they were supposed to, outdoors or in a greenhouse. It was time for her to escape this conversation.

“I’m sorry Lord Werlinshire, you must excuse me, I see my sisters beckoning me,” Jemma started.

“Yes of course Lady Coulborne, I look forward to continuing this conversation with you…” Lord Werlinshire interrupted.

“I’m afraid not Lord Werlinshire,” Jemma interjected “I can safely say that I have no interest in ever continuing this conversation with you such as it is. If you are indeed searching for someone to tend to the Abbey, perhaps you should find yourself a shipping heiress.”

Without waiting to see Lord Werlinshire’s reaction Jemma ran away. She had indeed spotted her sisters across Almack’s busy room and made her way to them now.

“Jemma was that Lord Werlinshire you were talking to?” Skye, the youngest Coulborne sister asked.

“He is turning the most interesting shade of red” their sister Darcy added.

“Is he really?” Jemma asked. She wished she could turn around and see for herself, but she didn’t want to risk him catching her eye and deciding that he should propose again. She had learnt her lesson the second time that had happened.

“Did he propose to you Jem?” Skye queried “He has that look about him. I suppose you turned him down. He seems more upset than they usually are, he must have actually liked you.”

“He may be upset because I suggested that he look for a merchant’s daughter to fund his Abbey repairs” Jemma admitted.

“Jemma you didn’t!” Darcy said with pride in her voice. Lady Darcy Coulborne had a propensity for speaking her mind. It was a most detestable trait in a well brought up lady, though her large dowry, buxom figure and family connections went a long way in overcoming such a defect.

“I did and I am heartily ashamed of myself. I just could not believe what I was hearing. He didn’t even propose. He simply assumed that I would gladly marry him, use my dowry to fix his family home and give him several young strapping sons that I would care for while he attended to his affairs in London.”

Both Skye and Darcy laughed heartily. It was easy to do when the troubles weren’t yours Jemma thought.

“Judging by the steep increase in proposals we seem to be receiving I suppose the word is out about our circumstance.” Jemma surmised.

“I have heard that someone put us in the betting book at White’s.” Darcy added.

“Surely you are mistaken.” Jemma was aghast

“I’ve also heard those rumours.” Skye confirmed.

“I wonder what the odds are,” Darcy mused with the most devilish smile on her face.

“Darcy this isn’t funny, that book has ruined reputations!” Jemma reprimanded.

“Yes it has, but we aren’t speaking about something as sacred as our virginities. They are taking bets on which of us will marry first. Besides, most people would love to be in the betting book as proof that they had ‘arrived’ in society.” Darcy argued.

“Our father is a Duke. We have never had to work to be part of the Ton” Skye pointed out.

“That is true, although I do wish I knew who revealed the arrangement.” Jemma added.

The great secret the Ladies of Foardingham were referring to was that in addition to their £50,000 dowry with additional £7,000 per annum, the first son born to any of them would become their father’s heir. This was an unusual arrangement to be sure. Philip Coulborne, Duke of Foardingham had received a special dispensation from the king.

A good looking, unassuming man, many people presumed the Duke to be a man who enjoyed the simple pleasures in life and spent little time on the affairs of state. Many people were wrong. The Duke was, as the King called him, the King’s good eye. He advised the King on many sensitive matters and was the King’s envoy when a subtle touch was necessary. When the Duke and Duchess realised that they would have no son, the King granted a dispensation allowing for the first grandson, to be born from any of the three daughters to become the Duke’s heir. This had been a well-guarded secret for nearly 20 years; the sisters suspected that their spinster Aunt Victoria had divulged the news as she was tired of seeing her nieces unwed. How it had ended up in the betting book at White’s the girls would never know.

“Jemma, it would seem that you have attracted Lord Donworth’s eye. He is headed this way and seems to want to claim you for the next dance.” Skye whispered urgently.

“Drat, he had mentioned something to me earlier but all my energy was focused on not breathing in his stench. I must have agreed to a dance to escape him.” Jemma moaned.

“Well you had better find a way out of it; I can hear the first strains of the waltz.” Darcy said.

“Oh no, I cannot be so close to him for such a long period of time! I will die of asphyxiation.” Jemma stated.

Panic had risen in Jemma’s chest. Lord Donworth had yet to embrace the modern social grace of bathing regularly. Such foul odors emanated from him that he tended to invade one’s personal space from several feet away. Luckily, just as Donworth was about to claim her hand, Jemma spotted her dear friend Leopold Fitzwilliam, Earl of Silvercroft. She quickly made her way to his side and whispered “Save me, dance with me.” They were on the dance floor a moment later and Lord Donworth looked confused. Her sisters had long since escaped his malodorous aura, and he looked to be a rather pathetic figure standing on the edge of the room staring forlornly at Jemma.

“What was that about?” Fitzwilliam asked?

“I accidently agreed to dance with Lord Donworth.” Jemma explained.

“Ah, say no more.” Fitzwillam assured.

Jemma and Lord Silvercroft, or Fitz as he was affectionally called by the Coulbornes, were close friends. Fitz had suddenly inherited his title several years ago, and having had no expectations of ever becoming Earl as he was only a distant cousin, had had no training to run his estates. The Duke took an interest in his situation and took the young Fitz under his wing. Leo moved in with the Coulbornes in Cambridgeshire and the Duke helped Fitz come to terms with his new responsibilities.

In the Coulbornes Leopold had found the family he had never had. He admired the Duke and Duchess greatly, and enjoyed spending time with Skye and Darcy. However he and Jemma had immediately fallen into an easy friendship. They both enjoyed intellectual stimulation and had had many a long discussion on esoteric subjects. Jemma could not imagine her life without Fitz, and was thankful that they had remained close after he moved back to his estate to take up its care on his own. Jemma and Fitz were enjoying the peace of being in each other’s presence when an interesting sight distracted them.

Skye had joined them on the dance floor in the arms of a tall, dark and handsome stranger.


	2. The day after ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An example of what happens when you do something foolish and your siblings catch you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, 
> 
> I wanted to thank you all for reading, leaving comments and kudos on the first chapter. It is insanely wonderful and helped me to believe that I wasn't crazy for attempting this. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this next chapter!

**Chapter 2**

The next day Skye entered the blue drawing room with an extra lilt in her step. Jemma was on the settee reading and Darcy was playing solitaire. Neither looked up when Skye came in and she thought she had managed to avoid the interrogation about her mysterious dance partner last night. The truth was that she didn’t know the man’s name. He had simply appeared as if by magic and whisked her onto the dance floor without so much as an introduction. It was an extreme breach in protocol, but Skye had been mesmerized by his charm.

“Skye you seemed to have had a lovely time last night. Did you meet anyone interesting?” Darcy asked with a sly smile.

Drat, they had noticed her; she couldn’t escape. The only course of action was to deflect the questions to the best of her abilities.

“Yes, I was introduced to Lady Beauchamp’s niece Fiona, she’s spending the season with her aunt and we’ve arranged to have tea next week. You are more than welcome to join us.” There, that should satisfy them.

“Oh, I didn’t notice her yesterday. Was she manly, dark, square-jawed?” Jemma inquired “Was she cutting a fine form in her evening breeches?”

“Was her cravat tied into a complex knot?” Darcy added.

“Were her boots polished to such a high gleam that you could see your reflection in them?” Jemma said.

“Were her collar points up to her ears?” Darcy wanted to know.

This continued for quite some time, until Jemma and Darcy were laughing so hard they could no longer breathe. They could choke for all Skye cared. It had been foolish to hope that they wouldn’t bring him up.

“Are you quite done?” Skye attempted to scold.

“You know we’re just teasing Skye. However, we would quite like to know about this mystery man,” Jemma mollified.

“You know almost as much as I do. The only information I can give you is that he is a divine dancer and an attentive listener.”

“You mean you don’t know his name?” Darcy’s protective instinct came to the forefront “He could have been anybody. Skye that could have been dangerous!”

“Yes, I’m sure great harm would have befallen me in front of all our friends in the middle of a crowded room.” Skye rolled her eyes.

“He could have spirited you onto a balcony and tried to ruin you; he could have attempted to kidnap you; he could have drugged you….” Darcy listed, ticking off each misfortune on her fingers as she spoke.

“Darcy, you are being absurd.” Skye huffed in a most unladylike fashion.

“Am I really? Lady Honoria Smythe is now in a wretched marriage with a man she detests because he kissed her at Lady Dunsbury’s summer party.” Darcy pointed out.

“Yes, but that was different.” Skye explained, her sister really was being ridiculous.

“How was that different, she was also in a public place surrounded by her friends.” Darcy felt as though she could shake her sister for being so foolish.

“She was in the garden maze and caught in an indelicate situation.” Skye all but yelled, her temper quickly rising. How dare her sister treat her like a child?

“Be that as it may, I am sure she did not set out to ruin herself.” Jemma interjected, keen to end this argument. Skye and Darcy could both be rather volatile and she had no desire to be caught in the middle of one of their fights. The last time they blew up at each other neither one spoke to the other for two weeks. Instead they used Jemma as a messenger until Jemma threatened to shear both of their lovely heads of hair while they slept if they did not resolve their differences.

“No she did not, you are right. I should have been more careful. Next time a handsome man asks me to dance I will insist on a proper introduction. Will that satisfy you, mother?” Skye asked Darcy with only a slight amount of acid in her voice.

“Yes, it will, thank you. And there is no need to call me mother. I am your sister; I am allowed to worry for you.” Darcy answered.

“Why are you worried about Skye, Darcy?”

Their mother, Melinda, had just entered the room and asked the question. At least Skye hoped she had just entered. The Duchess could be very quiet when needed, and had snuck up on all the girls at several inopportune moments throughout their lives. She could also instantly tell if any of her girls were lying, manage to make them feel guilty, and tell the truth without saying a single word. All she had to do was stand with her arms crossed and her eyebrow raised, and any and all of the Coulborne girls would give up any pretense.

“I’m just worried about her impetuous nature mother, but nothing can change such a defective person I suppose.” This was not a complete lie and Darcy said it with such conviction that their mother decided to let it go. There was no way to tell if the Duchess believed her daughter or not, but if she didn’t she must have decided that this had best be resolved between her daughters and that she ought not to interfere.

“Hmm.” Melinda replied.

“Were you looking for us mother?” Skye asked, eager to change the topic of conversation.

“Yes, I wanted to let you that we are having a bit of an impromptu dinner party tonight. One of your father’s old friends is coming for supper.” Melinda said with a smile on her face, her daughters could be quite transparent sometimes.

“Lovely, who is it?” Jemma asked eagerly.

“General Samuel Wilson. He is leaving for the continent tomorrow. Your father wanted him to have one last good meal before facing off with Napoleon.”

“He is father’s age and fighting in a war? Is that advisable?” Skye questioned.

“Your father is not that old Skye, and General Wilson is several years younger than your father.”

“Ah. He was another one of father’s projects” Jemma surmised.

“No he wasn’t. The general was very young when he helped your father perform a task for the King. Your father and he have been friends ever since.” Melinda explained.

“What task was that mother?” Darcy inquired, she was sure that her father was more than he appeared to be and was determined to find proof.

“I’m sure I couldn’t say.” Melinda replied, adopting a slightly intimidating posture in an attempt to ward off Darcy’s examination.

“Couldn’t or shouldn’t?” Darcy asked.

“Either or Darcy. I wouldn’t betray your father’s confidence, even by telling his very inquisitive daughter. I suggest you let it go.” Melinda intoned.

“Of course, I wouldn’t dream of hassling father for something that was, I am quite sure, very mundane.” Darcy said in an angelic tone.

Skye did not trust that to be true at all. Darcy had something up her sleeve and Skye pitied the General. He may be ready to fight Napoleon, but he had to deal with her tenacious sister first.

The rest of the afternoon passed in relative ease. Skye painted in the garden; Jemma finished a particularly difficult book relating to physics; and Darcy had disappeared shortly after their mother had left the drawing room, only to reappear when General Wilson was announced.

General Wilson was a very handsome man, made more elegant by his uniform. Jemma seemed quite distracted by his looks and Skye made a note to tease her about that at a later date. Perhaps she would save it for the next time her sisters decided to mock her.

Supper was a lively affair. The conversation flowed freely and all were enchanted by the General’s gregarious personality. After supper the whole party retired to the drawing room as the men had no desire for port and cigars that evening. Skye was playing a particularly lively piece on the pianoforte when she noticed Darcy approach the General, her intent to extract information obvious. Skye looked around the room frantically for Jemma in an attempt to catch her eye and have her intervene. It wasn’t necessary as Jemma had kept track of Darcy’s movements all evening, sure that her sister would attempt to do something like this. She decided to take control of the conversation before Darcy made a fool of herself.

“Tell me General, is it difficult to worry about all the men in your command? It seems to me that there are just so many of them, it must be difficult to keep track of them all.” That might not have been the best thing to say Jemma thought to herself, but she had managed to throw Darcy off course.

“It can be quite taxing yes. Luckily I have an excellent group of officers ready and willing to support me. In fact I am more worried about my officers than the rank and file soldiers.” General Wilson agreed, admiring the play of firelight off the young woman’s figure.

“Oh, that seems rather peculiar.” Darcy noted, distracted from her mission.

“You see I have every confidence in my men and their abilities to look after those who are beneath them. My officers have only me to tend to their well-being and I do worry about not doing enough.” This thought had kept Samuel up several nights and he appreciated the opportunity to voice his concern.

“Your apprehension does you justice General and shows real worry for your men. I am sure they are well cared for.” Jemma soothed, she was sure that this man would do anything to secure the comfort of those he was responsible for.

“Most, yes. What relief I cannot provide most receive from family in England. There is one officer that I am particularly worried about. He has no one to write to him, no one to remind him what he is fighting for.” General Wilson continued.

“Oh, that is terrible. Is there any way I could help? Do you think he would like me to write to him?” Jemma felt an overwhelming need to aid in any way she could.

“I think that he would greatly appreciate that Lady Coulborne. You are very generous to offer your time.” The General had genuinely not expected such an offer and had only meant to give an example of the cares he carried with him.

“Pish-tosh. It really is nothing for me to sit in my comfortable home and write a letter to a man risking life and limb in France. What is this man’s name? If you like I can write him a letter tomorrow morning and you could bring it with you when you leave. Would that be amenable to you?” Jemma was eager to start this project and had already planned her first letter, something short and sweet; thanking the officer for his service and reminding him that the people of Britain would be in his debt.

“That is perfect Lady Coulborne,” General Wilson agreed, “I am sure he will be very happy to receive your missive. His name is Captain James Buchanan.”


	3. Croquet is good for the soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma, Darcy, Skye and Fitz play croquet. People cheat, arguments happen.

**Chapter 3**

It was a lovely day and Jemma, Darcy, Skye and Fitz were in the garden playing croquet. This was a long standing competition between the four of them and cheating had been elevated to an art form. Darcy was the best at cheating; she was never caught and always won. Skye tried to cheat, but was always found out, usually by Darcy. Jemma and Fitz practically shared a brain and were constantly cancelling each other’s moves.

The game today had a particular edge to it. Skye had decided that today was the day that she would finally beat Darcy. Darcy was indulging her sister but planned to annihilate her in the end. Jemma and Fitz were having a less pleasant time. Fitz had taken exception to Jemma’s plan to write to Captain Buchanan and they were having a heated discussion about it.

“You can’t write to him Jemma!” Fitz exclaimed, distractedly knocking his ball through a hoop.

“Why on earth not? He has no family to speak of and needs someone to write to him. I fail to see how I am committing an atrocity.” Jemma retorted. Taking out her frustration with Leo’s protectiveness out on her ball. She was quite satisfied to see that she had knocked his ball quite out of bounds.

“Exactly Jemma! He has no family. We have no knowledge of him. He could be a vagrant for all we know!” Fitz said adamantly, bending over to retrieve his ball from the hedge.

“He’s hardly a vagrant Fitz. He’s a captain in his Majesty’s army and a friend to one of father’s friends.” Jemma imagined that her ball was Fitz’s head and gave it a good whack.

“Yes, well what do you know about him?” Fitz hit Darcy’s ball through a hoop he was so distracted.

“I know that he is one of General Wilson’s men and that his name is Captain James Buchanan.” Jemma lined up her shot and made it through two hoops. She turned to face Fitz, her hand on her hip.

“Is that all? For crying out loud, Jemma, he’s a Scot; he could be an illiterate barbarian.” Fitz raised his voice and hoped it didn’t crack due to his frustration.

“I think that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard you say and for your sake I will forget that you ever vocalised such a thought.” Jemma turned away from Fitz, determined to ignore him.

“I don’t think I am being ridiculous Jemma, this could be bad for your reputation.” Fitz could not believe how ignorant of the dangers Jemma was being.

“My reputation is perfectly safe, but if it wasn’t it would hardly be any of your concern.” Now Jemma was the one with the raised voice. How dare Fitz treat her like a naïve little girl.

“Like hell it isn’t Jemma! Skye don’t look at me like that I know you’ve heard far worse invectives than that. Jemma I think I have a right to be worried about your reputation.” Fitz now felt the need to yell at everyone.

Skye and Darcy looked at each other. They had long suspected that Fitz’s feeling for Jemma ran deeper than friendship. Was he finally going to enlighten their sister?

“No Fitz, you don’t.” Jemma pronounced with finality in her voice.

Fitz was crestfallen and Jemma did not notice. She knew that he felt protective of her, as an older brother would. But, sometimes she felt the need to remind him that she was a woman grown and that she knew her own mind.

Fitz was upset by Jemma’s attitude. He knew she could be oblivious; she never seemed to notice all the men who admired her. However, he never thought that the obliviousness would apply to him. He thought he would be the one to touch her heart and win her hand. He was in love with her and wanted them to marry. With her sisters looking on he knew this was not the right time to articulate his feelings, but he could not keep playing croquet and pretend as though they had just had a small argument between friends, heated in one moment and forgotten the next. He threw down his mallet and walked away angrily.

“Fitz where are you going? We are in the middle of a game! Skye has almost succeeded in beating Darcy.” Jemma called after him.

Fitz wheeled around to face the Coulbornes. “I’m sorry ladies, I must take my leave. The sun has gotten the better of me and I do not feel well.” He bowed, turned and kept walking.

“Well that was odd,” Jemma remarked to her sisters. “The sun has never bothered him before.”

“Oh Jemma, you poor deluded fool!” was Darcy’s only reply. It would be easy to tell Jemma of Fitz’ feelings for her, but it was not Darcy’s secret to tell. Besides which, she had no time to deal with the emotional ramifications of such an announcement right now. She had to beat Skye, who had taken the advantage offered by Fitz and Jemma’s argument to cheat very successfully and was very near winning. It was only Jemma pointing that fact out to Fitz that had turned Darcy’s mind back to the task of defeating her sister.

“Oh Darcy why did you have to do that?” Skye complained as her ball was neatly knocked far away from the hoop. She couldn’t care less about Jemma and Fitz’s relationship. She knew that Jemma didn’t love Fitz and that she would not agree to marry him. She thought that they had better have their squabble and hopefully clear the air before one or both of them got hurt.

“You didn’t really think that I was going to let you win did you?” Darcy practically cackled.

Clink

Darcy and Skye both spun around to see Jemma winning the game.

“You aren’t the only ones to take advantage of a situation to win,” Jemma crowed a big smile on her face. “Come on, let’s go in. I’ve arranged for some lemonade and biscuits to be waiting for us in the blue drawing room. We can go over the day’s invitations with mother and plan our week.”

Once inside the girls all flopped down on various pieces of furniture. It was so nice to be with ones own family and not have to pay any regard to propriety. The Duchess walked into the room with a large stack of envelopes in hand. Ever elegant, she sat on the small sofa and addressed her daughters.

“There is a slight change of plans for tonight. We were supposed to attend the Gabaldray musicale, however, your Aunt Victoria has invited us to supper.” A collective groan was heard. “Normally I would not cancel on the Gabaldray’s, but your Aunt has pointed out that we have refused her last three invitations, and that she would hate to have to create a scene the next time she saw us. She is sure you have all grown and bloomed and that she would have to comment on it, loud enough for all around to hear, even if we were at Almack’s.” the Duchess continued.

Darcy’s eyes rolled with such force Melinda was surprised they didn’t roll out of her head. The Duchess did not appreciate being blackmailed by her sister-in-law and did not entirely trust her. But the Gabaldray’s were good friends and would understand that some family commitments could not be helped.

“Who is coming to the supper?” Skye asked

“I haven’t a clue. As per usual your Aunt is parsimonious with the information she gives out.” Melinda answered.

“That means that it will be a matchmaking supper. She will have found 3 men that are completely eligible to her mind and it will be an evening of tedious conversations with idiots.” Darcy surmised.

“You could always choose to ignore the bachelors and speak to your sisters.” Melinda pointed out.

“Like I said: conversations with idiots.” Darcy did not see the pillow that was thrown at her and was knocked of the chaise lounge. Another pillow followed and the girls were soon in what could escalate into an epic pillow-fight. Melinda indulged her daughters and enjoyed watching how resourceful and scrappy they could be, but she ended it before any of them ended up with a black eye.

“Girls, perhaps you should rest before this evening. I feel you will need all you mental fortitude to survive this supper.”

And with that everyone exited the drawing room and retired to their quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I will eventually be publishing the letters Jemma and James are writing to each other, however they aren't quite ready yet. I want to make absolutely sure that they are in keeping with the time period.  
> Should you happen to be on tumblr feel free to drop me a line or a prompt. I'm emmawasright . 
> 
> I'll see you all next week, happy reading!


End file.
